


Goner

by Mishalocked24



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, Light Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 04:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17052881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishalocked24/pseuds/Mishalocked24
Summary: An alley. Something that Bucky shouldn't have seen. The truth.From the story:"Make meunderstand." he mutters under his breath fixing his honest irises into Steve's. "Make me understand why, Steve. 'Cause I hafta find a fuckin' reason to not lose my mind."





	Goner

_"Please."_

Bucky suddenly slows his steps and clenches his fist; his heart starts to furiously beat against his ribcage and a low tremor shakes his shoulders.

_"God, please."_

His pulse quickens and the blood freezes in his veins, making his sight blur in dread.

That's Steve's voice and Bucky has never been more scared in his entire life.

Steve's a fighter, Steve has never backed down and hearing the smallest sounds that his throat is struggling to release — _He's begging, for God's sake. Steve is begging_ —, bends Bucky.

A loud moan rips the silence and Bucky finds himself to run toward the alley from which come the groans.

_Steve, I'm coming. Hold on, pal._

His shoes tick against the cold cement of the desolate street and Bucky finds himself praying to a God in which he has never truly believed in.

_Please, take me. Not him. Take me._

Throwing himself with his fists raised and ready to attack, prepared to a show of blood and battle, he gasps when his eyes focus on two figures pressed to the wall, one kneeled on the ground and the other with its hand entwined on dark locks.

The bile rises in his throat and the earth seems to open below Bucky's feet.

Steve is frantically moving his hips; his cock banging in the man's mouth while his lips are parted in gasps and groans.

Not begging in distress, but in pleasure.

_His best friend is a queer and Bucky needs to throw up._

"Steve." the word slips from his mouth and Bucky trembles when Steve snaps his eyes in shock.

Finally the terror and the despair he was waiting for is painted in his blue irises.

Turning around Bucky starts to return to his steps, gulping and trying to wipe away the image of Steve's open lips and the sound of skin against skin.

"Bucky." he hears Steve call him — _he's desperate, he's broken. But Bucky doesn't stop. Can't stop._ _—_

Steve's a freak. Steve's an inverted. Steve's a queer. Steve's ill.

"Bucky!"

Bucky runs away while the tears start to wet his cheeks.

_Why to him, God? Why?_

When he turns the corner, he doesn't see Steve chase away the stranger and drop to the ground with all his body.

His tiny frame shaken by the sobs.

_He doesn't see it, yet he does the same._

The clink of the keys against the hard wood makes Bucky shiver.

The sight that welcomes him is a weary one, especially when he sees the dark circle under Steve's haunted eyes.

"Buck-"

Bucky just raises a hand and smothers every remaining syllable in the blonde’s throat.

" _Don't._ " he hisses taking a step forward and leaving his bag touch the dusty floor.

"I can explain," Steve tries to stretch an arm, blocking his path, yet Bucky dodges his touch and glares at him, thinning his lips in a firm expression.

"Just leave me alone, Steve." Bucky's eyelashes flutter against his pale cheeks, as if he is trying to demolish with a blunt knife the image of Steve's heart, breaking down in front of him —he cannot bear the soft tear escaping his blue eyes at his words. He just can't.—

The blonde’s shoulders slump off while he closes the bedroom's door — _their bedroom, Christ_ — behind him.

Steve will never find that Bucky's muffled cries he imagines to hear are real, just smothered by the pillow he is tightly hugging that night.

 

Steve doesn't go into those types of alleys again.

Not when Bucky's eyes haunt him every single night.

 

Bucky doesn't look at Steve in those painful hours.

Not when Steve's groans haunt him every single day.

 

"Make me understand." Bucky corners Steve in the kitchen, making him retreat and hit against the old and spoiled table they inherited from Sarah Roger.

"What?" Steve gasps, unused to hear Bucky's voice during those days and looks up at his friend confused.

Bucky's chewing his lower lip nervously and doesn't look back at Steve, with his fists clenched along his figure and his knuckles white for the effort.

"Make me _understand._ " he mutters under his breath fixing his honest irises into Steve's. "Make me understand why, Steve. 'Cause I hafta find a fuckin' reason to not lose my mind."

Steve seems to weigh his words.

Bucky's hands badly tremble when his brain recall one of the first memories he has about Steve —a child holding a teddy bear in his left hand, squeezing the fur between his tiny fingers and numbly caressing an unstitched ear, fixing his _big and innocent_ baby blue eyes in Bucky's for the first time—.

They were three years old, _Christ_.

The same big and innocent baby blue eyes that are staring at him right now and suddenly Bucky _knows_ : he has known that glance for the whole of his life, craving it whenever the hope seemed to mock him with its arched and cruel eyebrow, making him sprawl on the floor until he could feel the blood burning against his own veins in despair — _lost and abandoned. But never really alone_ —, and carving it behind the lids of his eyes; seeing it, dreading it and looking for it because it's dangerously honest and sickening innocent and it's just _home_.

The tiptoes of Steve's shoes are in his ears like a promise of a doom to which he would have never been freed, a curse that burdens to his shoulders making him bend beneath the graveness of his own sins.

"Come." and Bucky follows Steve because he has always had.

_Even into hell._

The first touch on his shoulder make him shiver in disgust, yet he swallows the bile back and closes his eyes, trying to focus on the sweaty tips of Steve's fingers against his slippery skin.

He looks directly into his eyes and gulps steadily, roughing out a smile on his face to dissipate the tension, but when he reads in his irises, Steve glances away and splays his palm against Bucky's heart.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers like he's confessing a secret and Bucky is not sure he has caught his words —not when his limbs shudder at the least contact and his brain starts to get foggy whenever Steve stretches and approaches him—.

"Do they?" the words leave his mouth without his control and Bucky regrets them as soon as they are out of his lips.

Steve bends his head and Bucky understands; the silence has never been more eloquent.

Steve's lips brush against his jawline and Bucky's eyelashes flutter quietly when he feels his warmth.

_God, don't._

The blond traces a pattern against his left cheek and his mouth grazes the corner of his lower lip, resting briefly there and putting more pressure.

A tiny sob slips out and Bucky is not sure is Steve's.

His fingertips ache to envelope Steve's tiny wrist when he kisses under his neck, making him gasp in surprise and in pleasure.

_Don't make me stain him._

"Can I kiss you, Buck?" Steve asks again, nibbling softly at his collarbone and Bucky hands clutch strongly Steve's back.

"Do they, Steve?" he replies and Steve's finger brushes lightly against his crotch, making him jolt in surprise.

_I'm a sinner who loves to drag the innocent into perdition._

The blonde smirks and palms the outline of his growing cock, silencing him.

Bucky's knee suddenly bends and Steve is ready to support his figure to accompany him near his bed, where he sits shaken.

He fixes him confused and Steve would laugh for the innocence in his clear eyes if the sin wasn't so much carved in his tainted soul.

With a smooth movement he pushes Bucky on the soft sheets, making him lay down on the mattress. Bucky just complies and Steve brushes against his aching cock again when he opens the fly of his trousers with trembling hands.

His lips rest against his hip and he mouths at it, suddenly biting it hard and making Bucky cry in pain.

"Can I kiss you?"

He fumbles with his underwear, exposing his hardness and staring at him with a mischievous glance.

Bucky moans when Steve closes his hand around his erection, pumping slowly and feeling it filling in his palm.

"Can I kiss you?" he kisses his left thigh, licking and biting.

"Do they, Steve?" Bucky stutters when Steve takes him in his mouth.

_A tear falls against his cheek, yet Steve doesn't see it._

He bobs his head and Bucky grasps at his blond hair, insecure if he wants to stop him or to force him to go down deeper.

Steve sucks harder and pulls at his cock, touching himself trying to find release.

Bucky sobs when he comes, while Steve groans and he spills against the white sheets, collapsing against Bucky's thigh.

Their breaths start to slow down when Steve finds strength to bite again toward Bucky's neck, sighing against his shoulder.

"Can I kiss you?" he mumbles against the shell of his ear, licking at it and making Bucky's eyes close.

He finds his strength too and gulps down the bile that is threatening to rise.

"No."

Steve stills.

Bucky cries.


End file.
